Friction
by a girl with a golden back
Summary: Logan/OFC


As they stood outside behind velvet ropes, the flash of the strobelight drew him in, its glow both intimidating and welcoming in the same instant. She bounced at his side to the infectious hip-hop beat, desperate to get a glimpse from behind everyone's heads, occasionally teetering into his shoulder because she kept forgetting she was in heels. There was no trace of nervousness in her eyes, only excitement as they neared the bouncer. Logan tried to casually wipe his clammy hands off on his jeans, letting her take the lead as she strutted up to the bouncer, giving him her fake ID without so much as a flinch.

The man gave her a knowing smile but let her pass through anyway. It was a lot harder to lie about your age when your face was plastered on various billboards along Sunset Strip.

The warmth that had resided in his brown eyes seemed to vanish as soon as his gaze met Logan's, and the boy tried to mask his shudder as he slowly handed over his own ID. Even though Logan's face had graced a number of magazine covers and billboards itself, his fame guaranteed him nothing because he didn't have the tits or the ass to pull it off. He was still just an awkward seventeen-year-old, no amount of hair gel or leather could hide that. The way his dark eyes continued to dart around like he was under interrogation gave him away at first glance.

Before the bouncer had a chance to object, Logan felt Kandi's grip tighten around his hand. All she had to do was say "he's with me" and flash that winning smile before she was dragging him through the entrance behind her.

It was hard to say no to that sort of confidence.

The atmosphere seemed so surreal, and though there was a bold determination in her step, Logan could tell Kandi had to pause for a moment and soak it all in. It felt like they were trapped in some sort of technicolored dream, the fuchsia and cerulean lights reflecting from their pale faces. Everything seemed blurry and distant, and with every blink, Logan feared he'd wake up in his bed, alone and staring at the ceiling.

The bass pulsed through his fair skin like a borrowed heartbeat as he followed her out onto the dancefloor. Neither of them had ever been to a real nightclub before, and Logan couldn't shake the feeling that he was venturing into uncharted territory, like with each step he was shedding some of his innocence.

She was desperate to feel like she belonged there, and without hesitation, the music flooded her body. She didn't bother to ease into the rhythm, her shoulders shimmying to the beat as she tossed her hair in the movement.

He didn't notice that he was just standing there until she made her way back over to him, weaving her arms around his neck as she pulled him closer. Even though the two of them were now officially a "thing," he still wasn't entirely prepared to have her that close to him. The blood seemed to gush to his cheekbones, and he was silently grateful that the lighting masked his embarrassment, though he was sure she could feel the heat dissipate from his skin as she leaned in.

"Come on, dance with me!" she shouted in his ear, her voice ringing over the music while her breath tickled his skin. Her palms seemed to cradle his hips, coaxing them to mimic her movements.

It wasn't that he was a terrible dancer, being part of boy band sort of required that he possess some sort of rhythm, and it wasn't that he wasn't used to dancing with Kandi, they'd danced together at parties before, but there was something different in her eyes that night, a weight that he just couldn't put his finger on: expectation.

The world of relationships was too overwhelming for him, and it was an odd sensation for him, to feel as if he were utterly and hopelessly clueless. There was an unfairness to it all, that he, as a male, had to gauge how far too take things physically, how much was too much. In his heart, he knew that he didn't want to disappoint her, to make her think that he didn't want her in that way, but at the same time, he didn't want to feel like he was pressuring her.

Logan still felt tense, but he let his shoulders rock back and forth in time with the music, trying to hide the fact that he was a bundle of nerves behind a carefree smile. It was no use, she could see straight through him.

"Loosen up, you're way too stiff," she laughed as she backed away, pushing her sideswept bangs from her eyes.

As her hips began to sway, falling into the flow of the song, the dark sequins that made up her dress caught the light, reflecting it in every direction around her. Focusing on her instead of the way his heart seemed to be thudding double time in his chest made it easier for him to forget the worries that ran rampant in his brain.

The song was fast-paced, and as Chris Brown's voice floated from the speakers, Logan realized he was actually having fun, pumping his fist along to the bass and laughing at Kandi as she bobbed her head along. They were both so ridiculously out of their element, surrounded by gorgeous twenty-somethings and alcohol, but there was something therapeutic about it all. It was nice to be nobodies for once. No one knew their names here, maybe barely recognized their faces, but that was it. No one knew that this wasn't the kind of thing they did every Friday night, and none of these people knew them, so they hadn't yet formed that impression of them.

But the feel-good high that came along with good music and anonymity faded with the remaining notes of the song, only to be replaced by the erratic flutter in his chest that he knew all too well. The next song was much more slow. As Gustavo would say, it "had hips," and Logan was suddenly beginning to understand the phrase as she drifted closer to him, her fingers toying with the sweat-dampened locks at the nape of his neck as her hips rocked against his.

_Too close, too close_, he could hear his own voice practically screaming in his head as he struggled to keep his lips steady.

In that instant, his leather jacket felt too heavy on his shoulders, his dark-washed jeans way too tight around his thighs. He wasn't incredibly sure where to place his hands, and as soon as he allowed them to settle at her sides, she was sliding through his fingers, her body traversing the length of his own.

It was becoming increasing difficult for him to keep mind over matter, to suppress the physical reaction that was beginning to make itself more apparent with each motion. Though he couldn't look her in the eye, he couldn't keep his gaze from wandering back to her. Logan had never felt that way before, like his reasoning was giving way beneath his hormones, his own body betraying him in some way.

It took every ounce of willpower he had to pull himself away, staggering towards the bar after mumbling some lame excuse about needing to catch his breath. It didn't take long for Kandi to appear at his side, hoisting herself onto the barstool beside him. Though her eyes were lined with questions, he was thankful that she didn't voice any of them, instead gesturing for the bartender.

Because the fake IDs they'd acquired from Guitar Dude had barely gotten them through the doors, they decided it wouldn't be a good idea to risk ordering a real drink, instead going for two Arnold Palmers.

He could hear the sound of the ice clinking against the glass as Kandi twirled her straw around, trying in vain to make the tea dissolve into the lemonade. Her eyes stayed glued to her drink as she spoke.

"Is something wrong? I mean, if you're uncomfortable here, we can always go somewhere else."

"Nah, I'm fine. It was just getting a little claustrophobic out there," he admitted, nodding towards the packed dancefloor. It was a valid excuse, and if she had any suspicions, she didn't voice them.

Her lips parted for a moment as if she wanted to tell him something, but she shook it off, letting the silence build between them.

And Logan wasn't the best at filling it. "It's been really fun, you know, dancing and everything."

Kandi pushed the half-empty glass away as she turned to face him. "So are you ready to get back out there?"

In all honesty, he wasn't, but the enthusiasm in her voice was enough of a persuasion.

They threaded through the crowd once more before nudging out a space for themselves, and though their bodies were pressed together, Logan didn't feel as awkward as he had before. Her eyes seemed to melt as she gazed up at him in complete adoration, and seeing her staring at him like that, as if he were some sort of prize, made him feel more at ease.

His hands rested along the small of her back, subtly holding her closer to him. A part of him needed to feel that warmth and longed to be comforted. She was the only person that could give him that, and even though the new dynamic between them had a way of keeping him on the edge of his seat, she always knew how to bring him back down to earth, and he loved her for that.

And though Logan often felt like things between them were moving at breakneck speed, he couldn't imagine taking the plunge with anyone else.


End file.
